


The Fire Within

by AllHallowsEve



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Fire, First Kiss, M/M, Pre-slash leading to slash, Relaxing after a non case, Self Loathing, Sometime after Episode s01e14 Nighmare, Wincest - Freeform, Worry, fears, woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 15:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15076079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: While relaxing after a case, that turned out not to be one, the boys drink around a fire.  Sam tries to talk about his fears of going bad like Max, but the conversation takes an entirely different direction.





	The Fire Within

**Author's Note:**

> This is set sometime after the incident with Max. Emotional fallout from what happened has been haunting Sam and he needs to talk it out with his brother. This is in no way related to the Wincest Colored Glasses series. This is just a stand alone piece that took off with my imagination while I was trying to concentrate on the next installment of the series and it wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd so please let me know of any errors so I can fix them and make it better for everyone.

Sam watched the flames flicker and dance, throwing sparks up into the dark night sky whenever one of the logs would shift or fall.  The crickets and other night bugs were creating a symphony around the makeshift camp he and Dean had set up in the national forest. 

There had been a series of strange deaths out here and the boys thought it might be another Wendigo or maybe a werewolf, but it turned out to just be a rabid wolf that they took down easily.  Sam had assumed they would head back out on the road after, but Dean had been in a strange mood this entire hunt and he had suggested maybe they make camp out here for the night.  They had some meat left over from what they had used to lure the wolf out of hiding with, and Dean had grilled it all up masterfully.  They had pulled the cooler out of the Impala and while Dean was busy making dinner, Sam set up a pretty nice area with some logs and their bedrolls around the fire for later.

So now they had their bellies full and nothing to do but drink the remainder of the night away.  Sam would normally love something like this, a warm night under the stars with the man he loved, nothing pressing, nothing threatening, but he was restless.  Every time he looked over at Dean, his brother was looking somewhere else.  He never seemed to want to face Sam tonight and Sam didn’t know what was going on.  He himself couldn’t get enough of watching Dean surreptitiously as the flickering light from the flames danced across his beautiful face, the hard cheeks and soft lips. 

Sam loved watching how his Adam’s apple bobbed from the swig he took off of the current beer in his hand.  How his lips fit around the edge of the bottle’s opening, it brought thoughts of what those lips might look like around something else.  Sam cleared his throat.  He needed to stop that train before it left the station.

He settled himself further on his sleeping bag, with his head propped up on a make shift pillow out of a flannel shirt he had grabbed out of the back seat.  It did little to ease his suffering since the shirt turned out to last have been worn by Dean and so his smell wafted up every time Sam moved his head. 

Sam tried to calm himself, looking up into the sky, watching the stars twinkle and blink overhead through the leaves.  But in his attempt to keep his thoughts away from dark twisted ideas about his brother, his mind followed the path towards his own fears that had been chewing on him lately. 

Ever since discovering that there had been someone else out there like him, Max, and that he had come to a bad end, Sam had been scared of his own path forward.  Dean had assured him, that Sam could never go dark, but Dean wasn’t aware of all the desperately insane desires Sam had about him.  If that wasn’t a sign he could go bad, he wasn’t sure what was.  He needed to talk to his brother, but he was afraid Dean would just blow it off.

But sometimes Dean could actually listen, especially on nights when he had been drinking just enough, not to be drunk, but to be open to actually having a real conversation.  It was rare, because usually Dean aimed for oblivion after a case, but this hadn’t been the usual case, and Dean wasn’t acting his usual self, so maybe just maybe Sam had a chance to get some of his fears out.  Maybe he could finally rest better if he did. 

“Hey Dean?”  Sam wasn’t sure how to test the water exactly, so he just sort of stuck a toe in.

“Yeah Sam.”  That answer gave Sam no indication what he was going to get.

“I’d like to discuss something.”  Sam tried a little harder to get a gauge.

“What’s on your mind?”  It was almost like Dean was being purposefully obtuse.

“I need to tell you something but I don’t want you making fun of me okay?”  He held his breath to see what would come next.

“Awe, now Sammy, why would you go and take all the fun out of things for me?”  Dean answered in his best put upon voice.

For some reason that just made Sam more determined, to jump in with both feet.

“I mean it Dean, I really need to talk to you.  I’m scared.”  His voice was breathy at the end, he hadn’t meant for the last part to slip out yet.

“Are ya feeling scared of the dark there Sammy, need me to hold you?”  There was the tiniest bit of slur to the end of the phrasing that made Sam scared he had underestimated how much Dean had drank already.

He huffed and decided to give up. “Never mind.”

Dean sat up straighter and looked at his brother hard where he lay on the opposite side of the fire.  Dean wasn’t nearly drunk enough to make him ready for a serious conversation with Sam, but his brother seemed vulnerable.  Dean had tried to sidestep with a joke but had failed.  He wasn’t comfortable at all right now.  Sam was too beautiful laying there, his eyes staring off into the night sky and the light from the fire making his face seem ethereal. 

He knew as soon as he had suggested staying, it was a bad idea.  His hands were itching to get a hold of Sam.  Every fiber in his being wanted to close the distance and lie down on top of his brother and take advantage of him before Sam realized what was happening. 

He really had no desire for a heart to heart while he was having such a hard time keeping his own feelings and desires in check but Sam needed him.  And if there was anything Dean had been good at since he was just a young boy, it was taking care of Sammy.

So he swallowed his own fears and said, “Sam, tell me what’s wrong.”

Sam’s heart raced at the change in his brother’s tone.  He didn’t sound like he had been drinking at all, and when Sam looked up at Dean, his face was serious and calm.   It had that stillness he got when he waited for whatever he was hunting to show itself.  It made Sam feel nervous for a whole different reason. 

He swallowed hard and suddenly couldn’t remember what was so important he needed to tell Dean, frankly if Dean hadn’t just said it, he wasn’t sure he would have remembered his own name at the moment.

“Um,” Sam sat up, no longer comfortable having this conversation from his back while Dean was staring down at him like that. 

Dean’s eyes searched Sam’s face, for any clue what might be coming.  He got nothing from his normally expressive features.

“You said you were scared?”  Dean prompted.  Normally Dean didn’t like to rush anything Sam had to say, he preferred to run from anything heavy as long as he could, but tonight he just couldn’t do that to his brother.  He felt wrapped in some kind of foggy web, like he couldn’t leave this place now if his life depended on it.  He suddenly wanted to know anything and everything Sam needed to tell him.  Wanted to crack his skull open and just see what was inside. 

Sam swallowed hard, his lust and love addled brain cleared a bit and he started to remember.

“Yeah, uh,” He stole a glance at Dean and his brows were furrowed, his dark eyes glowed out at Sam with intensity.

Sam decided staring into the fire would be safer.

“Ever since Max,” Sam swallowed again, “I can’t shake the feeling that there is something wrong with me.”

He didn’t want to look out across the fire and see agreement on Dean’s face, so he just watched the flames swirl and eat at the logs gluttonously.

“Come on Sam, there’s nothing wrong with you.”  Dean didn’t know why this fear had reared its ugly head again.  He thought they had put this behind them.  Sure it freaked him the fuck out that his brother was psychic and had intermittent abilities that he couldn’t really control.  But he was still Sam, still his pain in the ass little brother, still the only person Dean had ever been in love with.  He hated that Sam felt there was something even remotely wrong with him.

“Dean, you don’t know.  You just don’t know what is inside of me, and I am just really scared that I might hurt someone or go… I don’t know, bad somehow.”

“Sam, damn it, I know you, you aren’t bad, or wrong or whatever lies your head is telling you about yourself.   I know you down to your core, okay.  You are as good as they come, alright, and you aren’t gonna go all bad Anakin, Phantom Menace or anything.”

Sam laughed, “Dude it was Revenge of the Sith where Anakin went bad, we just saw that, how could you not remember.”  He laughed again.

“Shut up, Nerd.  Those movies all sucked anyway, not like the originals, which were true classics.”  Dean cleared his throat, just glad his brother was laughing.

Sam smiled at him and the brightness of it, the purity, it hurt Dean’s soul.  How this man could ever think he was capable of anything evil, was beyond Dean’s comprehension.  Sam was all that was good and just in this world.  Dean on the other hand, Dean was a monster.  As dark as they come, the things he wanted to do to his little brother were bad, wrong, nine kinds of evil, and the fact that he wanted to do them right now, this very moment, when his brother was showing how vulnerable he was and how much he needed Dean, it was repulsive.  But it was a part of Dean, and he had hidden from it, tried to chase it away, drink it away, and nothing would work, so Dean was done fighting.  He accepted that he was a monster and nothing he could do would change that, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight to control that side of himself with every breath he had till the day he died.  He wouldn’t hurt this man, not for anything, and so he fought on, fought through the desire that was tearing him up inside from just seeing the beauty of the man staring back at him.

Sam’s smile faded, his gaze fell away from Dean and back to the fire. 

“You’re wrong Dean.  You don’t know what is in me.  You don’t know the darkness I carry.”  Sam’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the crackle of the fire.

Dean examined Sam’s sad face, the glassy tears that were forming in his eyes reflecting the oranges and yellows like a kaleidoscope.  His heart hurt for the man, his arms ached to hold him and his lips longed to kiss the tears from his eyes.

“Then tell me Sam, what’s eating at you?” Dean’s own deeper voice carried quietly in the stillness.

A sharp sob snuck out from where Sam had been fighting it back.  He pulled his legs up under him, resting his arms across his knees and hung his head to hide from his brother’s view.

Dean was having none of that.  He got up quietly and settled himself, cross legged next to Sam on the younger man’s bedroll.  He was entering dangerous territory for himself, but he would have to lock that shit down.  He wasn’t about to let Sam suffer alone.

He reached out and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.  Instead of comforting his brother, it caused his tears to fall harder.

“Sammy, what is it?”  Dean was truly becoming concerned now.  Sam hadn’t even behaved this gutted after Jessica’s death.

Sam just started shaking his head side to side, it was a small movement, because his forehead was resting against his forearms but it was enough for Dean to know he meant he had no intention of sharing.

Sam’s shoulders began to heave softly, more proof that he was crying harder, even though he was barely making any noise other than sniffles here and there.

Dean pulled on Sam’s shoulder, where his hand was resting, and Sam resisted.

Dean moved his hand across Sam’s shoulder and down the arm facing away from Dean.  He hooked his hand around the outside of Sam’s left bicep and yanked towards himself, until Sam broke, letting his body be pulled and twisted until he rested against Dean’s chest.  In spite of his additional height, Sam’s head fit snuggly against Dean’s neck and shoulder and Sam all but collapsed against him, sobs taking him over.  Sam’s left hand clung to Dean’s shirt as the tears poured down, soaking his over-shirt.

Dean began rubbing circles on Sam’s back like he used to when Sam was little.

“It’s okay Sammy,” Dean soothed the words against his velvet hair, wanting so much to plant little kisses against it.

“Whatever’s got you all riled up, little brother, we will get through it together.”  Dean allowed the scruff of his five o’clock shadow to scritch against Sam’s hair, back and forth where it hung across the patch of Sam’s forehead touching Dean’s chin.

That earned yet another hard sob, this time very vocal, into Dean’s chest.

“No, Dean, you don’t understand.  I can’t tell you this, not this time, it would make you hate me and I would just die if that were to happen.”  Sam was almost to the point of hysterical crying where Dean could hardly make out the words, but luckily Dean was well versed in upset Sammy speak.  He got the gist of the sentence, well enough.

Dean took one of Sam’s shoulders in each of his hands and manhandled Sam up and away from his chest until they were eye to eye.  Sam’s bangs were just long enough that he could hide behind them when his head was lowered as it hung now.  

“Sammy, I need you to look at me.”

Sam shook his head in the negative.

Dean gave his brother a hard jerk and said threateningly, “Sam look at me.”

Sam slowly raised his head and made eye contact with Dean.

What Dean saw there wrecked him.  Sam’s eyes were swollen and puffy and tears were falling freely down his cheeks.  His normally animated hazel eyes were haunted and fearful, just this side of having a vacant feel to them for how far inside himself his little brother had crawled.

“Sam, know this, hear me, there is nothing, nothing that you can tell me about yourself, nothing you have done, and nothing you are, that would ever make me walk away from you.”  He gave him another hard shake.  “Nothing, do you hear me.”

“You’re wrong Dean.”  Sam sighed. 

“You’re just wrong about this.”  His shoulders tried to slump in on themselves but Dean held him hard, wouldn’t allow him to withdraw physically the way he was trying to do emotionally.

“Sam we aren’t leaving this spot until you tell me what is going on.  I mean it.”

Dean’s voice was hard.  It held that edge that made monsters cringe if they were smart.  Sam had seen ghosts pause in their tracks from Dean’s attitude and sheer force of will before. 

This night, in this broken state, Sam was no match for it.

But instead of caving, he got mad, fear and the certainty that he was about to lose the only person he had ever truly loved, made him snap.

“Fine Dean, fine, you think you are so strong and won’t turn your back on me, then gear up because you will realize just how wrong you are when I explain.”

Dean’s hackles went up.  The shift in emotions threw him and his own fears rose, making him harsh, “Bring it on tough guy.”

Dean dropped his hold on Sam’s shoulders and crossed his arms across his own chest defensively.

Once the rush of adrenaline had passed with his vocal outburst, Sam was lost again, and now without his brother’s hold on him, he did curl his shoulders down hunching until he looked a lot smaller and younger.  He pulled his knees up in front of him and wrapped his arms tight around them but refused to hide his face this time.  If this was it, he would face Dean, would see the disgust and hate as it gathered in his big brother’s eyes.

Dean would finally know the real Sam and see why he should have left him at Stanford all those months ago. 

Sam swallowed hard.  At least if he was going to lose Dean, it would be on his own terms.

He looked into the face of the man he had loved his entire life.  Memories of how that love had grown and shifted, changing into the dark desire he carried with him now, knowing that it was still wrapped up in him being his brother, and protector and all the things that made Dean him, as well.

It was hard to breathe around the depth and breadth of it.  His feelings were immense, it made up so much of who Sam was, one half of SamandDean for so much of his life.  He had felt so empty, missing his other half while away at school, ached for him like a phantom limb.  And now he was about to amputate that of his own volition.  But maybe this was for the best.  With this scary power inside of him, maybe it was good to drive Dean away, so that if he did in fact turn dark, if the demon did have plans for him, Dean would be safely away from all that when it happened.

He straightened his shoulders.  He moved his legs so that he could sit facing Dean head on.  Dean turned and mirrored him, his face harsh and closed off, as if waiting for a physical blow from Sam. 

Sam took another deep breath and looked him dead in the eye, watched as Dean’s jade green examined his face for what was coming next.  He could get lost in those eyes if he would let himself.  A shiver ran up Sam’s spine and he said flatly with as little emotion as he could manage, “I’m in love with you Dean, I want you in a way no brother should.”

Sam couldn’t breathe, he thought he might pass out.  He had just said those words out loud.  His heart began beating so hard he felt it might spasm.

Dean’s face held firm for a beat, then two, then his brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard.  “Sam…”

He swallowed again. 

Dean’s mind had gone fuzzy and he saw white noise in his peripheral vision.  If he didn’t start breathing soon, he would pass out but he couldn’t quite seem to send that message to his burning lungs.

“Sam, I…”

Sam launched into a tirade, “See Dean, I know, it is horrible, I am horrible, I’m a twisted up monster of a person already and I just know I will go dark and now you hate me and, I am sure that you are disgu…”

His monologue was cut short by Dean’s hand firmly grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Dean had somehow moved lightning fast and was on his knees in front of Sam.  His other hand found its way into Sam’s hair and a sigh growled deep in Dean’s throat. 

Sam felt his mouth being pushed open by Dean’s insistent tongue and that was the last thought that he was able to formulate for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Funny thing, I sat down to write a little PWP porny piece for fun to clear my head with some happy sex time before starting Season 2 of WCG. Guess what, I think I am broken. Used to be I couldn't write a slow burn to save my life because porn jumped out immediately after the story left the starting gate. Now after writing the Wincest Colored Glasses series for so long, I can't even write porn properly.
> 
> What you just read is what became of my simple idea for a quick sex romp. I have no idea if this will turn into an actual sex romp, more chapters to this might follow. I wasn't even planning on this thing happening so who knows... We'll just have to see where the boys lead me. If there are more chapters watch for a rating change because I really could use some good porn writing right now.
> 
> Love to you all. Hope you enjoyed this!!


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